


Tracked Changes

by vanilla_villain37 (van1lla_v1lla1n)



Series: multichapter modern aus (reylo) [3]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A fuck of gratitude if I ever saw one, Academia, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Come Eating, Dom/sub Undertones, Editor!Ben, Epistolary, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Hand & Finger Kink, Lots of fingers in mouths, Please Kink, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Soft Aftercare, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, professor!Rey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:17:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/van1lla_v1lla1n/pseuds/vanilla_villain37
Summary: Dr. Rey Johnson is a new tenure-track professor at Chandrila University. She'll need an editor if she's going to start publishing soon—luckily, history department head Leia Organa knows just the guy.A transcribed epistolary fic + smutty conclusion!
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: multichapter modern aus (reylo) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859416
Comments: 62
Kudos: 303





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lotrtrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotrtrash/gifts), [Reylohirrim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reylohirrim/gifts).



> This is the transcribed (and very slightly modified to fit the different medium) version of an epistolary fic I originally posted on Twitter. Chapter 2 is the AO3-native smutty conclusion!
> 
> Edit 8/6/20: I did originally post this fic on Twitter, but I've since taken it down, after I realized that the way I wrote it was perpetuating a broader trend of dismissing Finn, a Black character, in favor of Hux, a white one. I've edited the version of this fic posted here, on AO3, to address that.
> 
> As I posted on Twitter today, "I'm sorry I wrote [the fic] that way in the first place, and that it took me this long to realize the issue, and also for all the folks who have already read it and absorbed any of the implicit bias against a Black character that I failed to address before I posted the fic."

Newly minted assistant professor Dr. Johnson reaches out to a certain Mr. Benjamin O. Solo:

> **On Tue, Apr 14, 2020 at 08:21 AM Dr. Rey Johnson <rey.johnson@chandrila.edu> wrote:**
> 
> Dear Mr. Solo,
> 
> I am a new assistant professor in the history department at Chandrila, specializing in environmental history. I’m looking for an editor to work on a journal article I’m hoping to submit for publication over the coming months, and my department head, Leia Organa, recommended you. I’m just back from a research trip and hope to have the piece ready soon. My research is on the effects of eco-tourism in national parks and similar landscapes (e.g. loss of cryptobiotic soil crust).
> 
> Do you have availability and interest in this kind of project? And could you let me know what your rates would be?
> 
> Thanks for your time,
> 
> Rey Johnson
> 
> ———  
>  Assistant Professor  
>  Department of History  
>  Chandrila State University  
>  “Why did we so consistently look at the West through the sights of a rifle?” —Dan Flores 

> **On Tue, Apr 14, 2020 at 10:31 AM Benjamin O. Solo <ben.solo@falconeditorial.com> wrote:**
> 
> Dear Rey (if I may),
> 
> It was kind of Leia to recommend me. I do have availability to take on your article. I’ve attached my rates sheet and a sample contract.
> 
> Please let me know if you have any questions about either, as well as an approximate start date.
> 
> Best,
> 
> Ben Solo
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

* * *

Oh, wait, does that O stand for . . . Organa?

Ben texts his mother.

> **BEN:** Hello, Mother. Anything I should know about this Rey Johnson?
> 
> **LEIA:** You're welcome for the referral, son.
> 
> **BEN:**. . . Thank you, Mother.
> 
> **BEN:** So?
> 
> **LEIA:** She's my newest hire. Very bright. She's teaching a sort of enviro. hist. survey and the students are very enthusiastic. Did you take the work? I know you've been trying to expand your client base. Just trying to help.
> 
> **BEN:** I did. Thank you again.
> 
> **LEIA:** And just FYI she's never published before so she might need a bit of extra handholding :)
> 
> **BEN:** Mother, I swear to God if she's another Ethel Palpatine
> 
> **LEIA:** Just a bit, Ben. You can handle it. And Rey's young, cute, tech-savvy, nothing like Ethel. I promise.
> 
> **BEN:** So she knows how to save Word documents?
> 
> **LEIA:** Of course. But also Ethel couldn't have been that bad--she just wanted a little help with that biography of her great aunt, didn't she?
> 
> **BEN:** It was UNSALVAGEABLE. And she called me to discuss every single edit
> 
> **BEN:** Every
> 
> **BEN:** Single
> 
> **BEN:** Edit
> 
> **LEIA:** Well Rey's perfect, sweetheart, you'll see!

* * *

Ben performs some purely editorial investigations:

* * *

Rey's feeling a little uncertain about the editing process, but just a _quick_ phone call with her new, experienced editor will _definitely_ help.

> **On Wed, Apr 15, 2020 at 08:42 AM Dr. Rey Johnson <rey.johnson@chandrila.edu> wrote:**
> 
> Dear Mr. Solo,
> 
> Thanks for getting back to me so promptly. Your rates will be fine, and I can send you the piece by April 27. Would that work for you? What would you expect in terms of turnaround time? It’ll be about 9,500 words with the notes.
> 
> I’ve actually never worked with an editor before (or in fact published at all), so I was wondering if you might be up for a quick phone call just to answer a few questions about the process. Sometime later this week or next? Afternoons tend to work best for me.
> 
> Thanks,
> 
> Rey Johnson
> 
> ———  
>  Assistant Professor  
>  Department of History  
>  Chandrila State University  
>  “Why did we so consistently look at the West through the sights of a rifle?” —Dan Flores 

> **On Wed, Apr 15, 2020 at 10:39 AM Benjamin O. Solo <ben.solo@falconeditorial.com> wrote:**
> 
> Hi, Rey,
> 
> April 27 will be fine for a start date. I can have it back to you by May 15.
> 
> I could do a phone call Friday at 3:00 p.m. Does that work for you?
> 
> BOS
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

> **On Wed, Apr 15, 2020 at 02:31 PM Dr. Rey Johnson <rey.johnson@chandrila.edu> wrote:**
> 
> Mr. Solo,
> 
> Friday afternoon at 3:00 works for me. I'll call you at the number listed on your website.
> 
> Rey
> 
> ———  
>  Assistant Professor  
>  Department of History  
>  Chandrila State University  
>  “Why did we so consistently look at the West through the sights of a rifle?” —Dan Flores 

* * *

As it turns out, not only is Ben's new client intelligent, driven, and gorgeous, but her accent makes him wish it were normal to ask authors to record themselves reading their work aloud. For purely editorial purposes.

After their call, Ben tries to draft a follow-up email.

> **To:**
> 
> **Cc/Bcc:**
> 
> **Subject:** Following up on our call; a question
> 
> Rey, thanks for speaking with me this afternoon. I hope I was able to answer all of your questions--please let me know if not!
> 
> I hope this isn't too forward, but
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

> **To:**
> 
> **Cc/Bcc:**
> 
> **Subject:** Call follow-up
> 
> Hi Rey--enjoyed speaking with you this afternoon. If you think it might be helpful to meet up in person sometime to discuss the edits, after I send
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

> **To:**
> 
> **Cc/Bcc:**
> 
> **Subject:** A few concerns
> 
> Hi, Rey--did Leia mention that she's my mother? I'm wondering actually if there's any ethical concerns about our working together, given my familial connection. I really wish we could but more than that I think you're so smart and absolutely gorgeous and if you're paying me the I definitely couldn't
> 
> Skhdvqbss
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

* * *

It takes him nearly twice as long to draft the follow-up email as the call had taken in the first place. Finally he settles on something that he thinks strikes the right tone--professional, mostly, and not too warm but also not too chilly. He hopes.

> **On Fri, Apr 14, 2020 at 03:46 PM Benjamin O. Solo <ben.solo@falconeditorial.com> wrote:**
> 
> Hi, Rey,
> 
> I hope I was able to answer all your questions. Please let me know if anything else comes up.
> 
> Otherwise, I'll look for your article on April 27.
> 
> And please do call me Ben.
> 
> BOS
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

* * *

Meanwhile, Rey does a bit of her own research, and sends a brief report to her departmental colleague Dr. Finn Storm.

> **REY:** FINN I TALKED TO MY EDITOR
> 
> **FINN:**...
> 
> **FINN:** yes, and?
> 
> **REY:** He's very nice but
> 
> **FINN:** Rey, jfc, please just spit it out
> 
> **REY:** His voice 😬
> 
> **REY:** And then I looked him up and
> 
> **FINN:** and
> 
> **REY:** LOOK 
> 
> **FINN:** Oh no he's hot! Not a hot editor! Whatever will happen to you!
> 
> **REY: Finn,** how am I supposed to let him read my writing?? He sent me a followup emial after the call and I blushed jsut at that! And I'm supposed to let him critique my writing? My very soul??
> 
> **REY:** Thank god I didn't look him up *before* the call 😭
> 
> **FINN:** God you're dramatic. Leia recommended him, right? I'm sure it'll all be very professional.

* * *

Rey sends over her article. Sure, it's nearly 11pm, but she never _explicitly_ said she'd get it in by end of business. Still on time!

> **On Mon, Apr 27, 2020 at 10:53 PM Dr. Rey Johnson <rey.johnson@chandrila.edu> wrote:**
> 
> Hi Ben,
> 
> I’ve attached my article here. Please feel free to email or call if you have any questions as you work through it.
> 
> Rey
> 
> ———  
>  Assistant Professor  
>  Department of History  
>  Chandrila State University  
>  “Why did we so consistently look at the West through the sights of a rifle?” —Dan Flores 

* * *

Aaaaaaaand she immediately panics.

> **REY:** Finn I just emailed him my article & I told him to CALL if he has any questions
> 
> **REY:** I know I'm a buffoon you don't have to say it
> 
> **FINN:** But that's a perfectly normal thing to say?
> 
> **REY:** I hate you but I hate myself more
> 
> **FINN:** Now, now. You love me and you love yourself too and you know it. Let's get margaritas tomorrow night, shall we?

* * *

Good thing Ben's an early riser (ahem) and gets back to her first thing next morning.

> **On Tue, Apr 28, 2020 at 07:46 AM Benjamin O. Solo <ben.solo@falconeditorial.com> wrote:**
> 
> Thanks, Rey. File received. I’ll have it back to you by May 30.
> 
> BOS
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

* * *

Ben edits by day but does some _thinking_ by night. We'll let him phone a friend. Enter fellow freelancer Rose Tico.

Unfortunately Rose thinks Ben's idea is just as dumb as he thinks it is.

> **BEN:** Hi, Rose. Do you ever meet with authors in person to discuss edits?
> 
> **ROSE:** Sounds like a nightmare, tbh (so no). Why?
> 
> **BEN:** I'm working with a local author for once and just wondered if it's ever helpful.
> 
> **ROSE:** I can think of few if any circumstances in which the helpfulness would outweigh the PITA-ness. And I would definitely charge a PITA fee.
> 
> **BEN:** Hmm. Thanks.

* * *

Ben sends over the edits. "Another project delayed"? Sure, Jan. Ben's definitely not the type to overwork himself trying to avoid Feelings. Nope.

> **On Fri, May 8, 2020 at 02:32 PM Benjamin O. Solo <ben.solo@falconeditorial.com> wrote:**
> 
> Hi, Rey,
> 
> I had another project get delayed so I was able to get to your article sooner than expected. I’ve attached it here, along with some instructions for reviewing the tracked changes. Once you send this back I’ll integrate all the changes and have the clean file back to you within five business days.
> 
> Let me know if you have any questions.
> 
> Ben
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

* * *

Ben Solo, ever the (suspicious) advocate, texts his mother:

> **BEN:** Did you tell Rey she needed an editor? This piece was in great shape already.
> 
> **LEIA:** She's a bit of a perfectionist. It's her first try at getting published, Ben. And it never hurts to have a professional take a look. As you know.
> 
> **BEN:** Of course. I think she's a stronger writer than she knows.
> 
> **LEIA:** I agree completely. 😊

* * *

Meanwhile, Rey doesn't realize she can change the markup settings to hide formatting edits. Utter chaos. Luckily Finn knows his way around a word processor.

> **REY:** I got my edits back. And I am MORTIFIED. So embarrassed. There's so much red 😭
> 
> **FINN:** That's his job, Rey. I'm sure he's seen much worse. 
> 
> **REY:** SO MUCH
> 
> **REY:** RED
> 
> **FINN:** Rey. Calm down. Do you want me to look at the edits so I can tell you more accurately how ridiculous you're being?
> 
> **REY:** 🥺 pls

* * *

Rey makes it through review! But she still can't help but feel a _little_ bad, even if it _is_ Ben's job.

> **On Tue, May 12, 2020 at 11:31 PM Dr. Rey Johnson <rey.johnson@chandrila.edu> wrote:**
> 
> Dear Ben,
> 
> Here’s my article with all the edits reviewed. I think I’ve answered all your queries—please let me know if anything doesn’t make sense! And I’m sorry that this was such a mess!
> 
> Rey Johnson
> 
> ———  
>  Assistant Professor  
>  Department of History  
>  Chandrila State University  
>  “Why did we so consistently look at the West through the sights of a rifle?” —Dan Flores 

* * *

Rey screenshots Ben's response for Finn. But whose interpretation of his email will prove correct?

> **On Wed, May 13, 2020 at 08:04 AM Benjamin O. Solo <ben.solo@falconeditorial.com> wrote:**
> 
> Thanks, Rey—I’ll have this back to you within the week.
> 
> No apologies needed.
> 
> BOS
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

> **REY:** See I told you he hated me
> 
> **FINN: 🙄**
> 
> **FINN:** If anything he's clearly in love with you already. "No apologies needed"? I've never heard anything more romantic. Positively Darcyan.
> 
> **REY:** Why couldn't Leia have just recommended some old fogey editor? 😥 I can just see him glowering at me hotly over every misplaced comma 🥵😭

* * *

Ben begins cleanup editing. And because yes, he really is a monster, he uses both Courier New _and_ the Review Pane.

* * *

Ben returns the clean file! With an exclamation point!

> **On Fri, May 15, 2020 at 10:23 AM Benjamin O. Solo <ben.solo@falconeditorial.com> wrote:**
> 
> Rey, here’s the cleaned-up manuscript. I made a few more tweaks in the second pass, so I’m also including a separate doc with the final set of tracked changes.
> 
> If you have any other questions or concerns, please don’t hesitate to get in touch with me. Best of luck with the submission!
> 
> It’s truly been a pleasure working with you.
> 
> Ben
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

* * *

Ben is _very_ thorough and Rey is _very_ grateful. How will she ever repay him?

> **On Fri, May 15, 2020 at 02:31 PM Dr. Rey Johnson <rey.johnson@chandrila.edu> wrote:**
> 
> Hi Ben,
> 
> Thank you so much for all your work on this! You’re so thorough and you fixed so many things I never would have even noticed. If this gets accepted I’ll owe you big time.
> 
> I’ll submit your invoice and the university should have a check cut to you in a few days.
> 
> My very best,
> 
> Rey
> 
> ———  
>  Assistant Professor  
>  Department of History  
>  Chandrila State University  
>  “Why did we so consistently look at the West through the sights of a rifle?” —Dan Flores 

* * *

Our ethical editor takes a little research trip of his own. Unfortunately there don't seem to be many results relevant to his situation--maybe he's overthinking things?

* * *

A few weeks go by. Ben drafts a few more emails.

> **To:**
> 
> **Cc/Bcc:**
> 
> **Subject:**
> 
> Hi, Rey,
> 
> I hope you've been well and that things are going well with the submission process.
> 
> I'm not sure of the ethics of this (or maybe of anything, anymore), but I really enjoyed talking with you and wanted to task if you'd like to do it again sometime. What do you
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

> **To:**
> 
> **Cc/Bcc:**
> 
> **Subject:**
> 
> Hi, Rey,
> 
> I hope you've been well and that things are going well with the submission process.
> 
> Is there any chance you might be interested in meeting up again sometime? I really enjoyed talking with you and I just
> 
> Please
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

> **To:**
> 
> **Cc/Bcc:**
> 
> **Subject:**
> 
> Rey,
> 
> Please
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

* * *

TROUBLE IN PARADISE

A month later. Looks like Rey might not be just a _former_ client after all. :/ On the bright side, though . . .

> **On Thu, June 18, 2020 at 07:38 PM Dr. Rey Johnson <rey.johnson@chandrila.edu> wrote:**
> 
> Hi Ben,
> 
> I hope you’ve been well! Unfortunately I’m writing because the journal has asked me to revise and resubmit because of some “structural issues.” To be quite honest I’m not even really sure where to start to address that, so I was hoping you might be able to step in again.
> 
> I think typically you would just send me an editorial letter in this kind of situation, but Leia (my department head) suggested that since you’re local we might meet in person to discuss your revision recommendations? Would you be open to that?
> 
> I’ve attached the draft of the article I submitted and also the journal editor’s comments. Please let me know if you might have the time to look over this again with a more structural approach.
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> Rey
> 
> ———  
>  Assistant Professor  
>  Department of History  
>  Chandrila State University  
>  “Why did we so consistently look at the West through the sights of a rifle?” —Dan Flores 

* * *

Somebody's grumpy.

> **BEN:** Did you never tell Rey we were related?
> 
> **LEIA:** Huh, I guess not!
> 
> **BEN:** Also, you know I don't do in-person meetings. I've literally never heard of it being helpful. And I don't use the word "literally" lightly.
> 
> **LEIA:** Couldn't you make an exception? For Rey? She's just the type that needs to talk through things
> 
> **LEIA:** I can hear you sighing from here. But please do consider it.

* * *

Ben does take things into consideration . . . for, like, one hour.

> **On Fri, June 19, 2020 at 08:04 AM Benjamin O. Solo <ben.solo@falconeditorial.com> wrote:**
> 
> Hi, Rey,
> 
> I’m sorry to hear about the revise and resubmit; I’d certainly be willing to take a look at this again.
> 
> I don’t typically meet with clients in-person, as such meetings tend not to be very fruitful, but if you and Leia feel it would be helpful in your case then I could make an exception. Give me a week or so to look over this and then I’ll get in touch about setting up a meeting. OK?
> 
> BOS
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

> **On Fri, June 19, 2020 at 02:12 PM Dr. Rey Johnson <rey.johnson@chandrila.edu> wrote:**
> 
> God, what a relief! Thank you so much, Ben!
> 
> Rey
> 
> ———  
>  Assistant Professor  
>  Department of History  
>  Chandrila State University  
>  “Why did we so consistently look at the West through the sights of a rifle?” —Dan Flores 

* * *

Ben definitely didn't spend his weekend working! And even if he did, it certainly wasn't on Rey's article! Ha ha nope!

> **On Mon, June 22, 2020 at 10:11 AM Benjamin O. Solo <ben.solo@falconeditorial.com> wrote:**
> 
> Rey, hope you enjoyed your weekend. Could you meet this Wednesday or Thursday afternoon? I’ll let you pick the spot.
> 
> BOS
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

* * *

Look at them, being so brave! 

> **On Mon, June 22, 2020 at 10:29 AM Dr. Rey Johnson <rey.johnson@chandrila.edu> wrote:**
> 
> Hi Ben,
> 
> Wednesday will be fine! Does 2pm work for you? At Maz’s by campus?
> 
> Rey
> 
> ———  
>  Assistant Professor  
>  Department of History  
>  Chandrila State University  
>  “Why did we so consistently look at the West through the sights of a rifle?” —Dan Flores 

> **On Mon, June 22, 2020 at 10:36 AM Benjamin O. Solo <ben.solo@falconeditorial.com> wrote:**
> 
> See you Wednesday afternoon at 2:00.
> 
> BOS
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

* * *

It's meeting day!!

Rey is extremely calm. Finn sends (belated) moral support. He does his best.

> **REY: 🚨🚨🚨** MEETING WITH HOT EDITOR TODAY !! !! !! 🚨🚨🚨
> 
> **FINN:** When and why?
> 
> **REY:** Afternoon. I don't know!! Leia said it was a good idea?
> 
> **REY:** It *seemed* like a good idea before but now I'm 🥵😩
> 
> **REY:** Which outfit should I wear tho?
> 
> **REY:** HEELLLOOOOOOO
> 
> **FINN:** I had an 8:30, sorry! I hope you went with the first one.
> 
> **REY:** I did 😬
> 
> **REY:** omw to mtg now 😩 send thoughts and prayers
> 
> **FINN:** Every thought and prayer I have is with you 😘 You'll do fine!
> 
> **FINN:** And just remember, if things get weird you'll never have to see him again!
> 
> **REY:** Thanks 😑

* * *

Rey shows up a _little_ early. Oops.

> **REY:** Hi Ben. This is Rey. I got to Maz's a bit early and was just wondering if there's something I could go ahead and order for you?
> 
> **REY:** No rush though! My afternoon class just finished a bit early so I went ahead and came over here
> 
> **BEN:** Hi, Rey, just an Americano would be great, if you don't mind. I'll be there soon.

* * *

Rey transcribes her meeting notes:

* * *

A few weeks go by, and Ben doesn't hear from Rey. Hopefully she's working on her revisions. Hopefully she didn't get a second opinion on the structural stuff and realize all his recommendations were garbage.

Rye _knows_ it's Ben's job to edit things. But she still can't help but feel like a nuisance when she thinks about sending her article back to him _again_ after these revisions. So she proofs it as many times as she can, crosses her fingers, and sends it back to the journal.

In mid-July, Ben meets his mother for their monthly lunch near campus, and she brings him a tall box and a card. The card's not addressed in her handwriting, but she won't say who it's from, much to Ben's irritation.

He opens it as soon as he gets home. It's a bottle of Scotch, Talisker Storm. And the card:

[Ben, I just got word from my editor that they're accepting my piece with no further revisions! Thank you so much again for all your work on it--& for meeting with me to discuss the structural revisions in particular. I hope this repays some of my debt. All my best, Rey Johnson]

* * *

Ben DOES the THING (with maybe a dram of liquid courage from the Talisker):

> **On Tue, July 14, 2020 at 10:36 PM Benjamin O. Solo <ben.solo@falconeditorial.com> wrote:**
> 
> Rey, thank you. Thank you so much for sending this; I don’t know if the work I did for your manuscript really merited such a gift, but I’m so grateful.
> 
> I’m thrilled that your article was accepted for publication. You worked so hard to make that happen, and I’m glad the journal was able to see the value I see in your work.
> 
> I would love to take you for a celebratory drink in the coming weeks, if you would like that.
> 
> All best,
> 
> Ben Solo
> 
> ———  
>  Benjamin O. Solo  
>  Owner and Editor  
>  Falcon Editorial 

* * *

Rey is absolutely SCREAMING in her office rn:

> **On Wed, July 15, 2020 at 11:12 AM Dr. Rey Johnson <rey.johnson@chandrila.edu> wrote:**
> 
> Ben, you’re so welcome. I couldn’t have gotten my first piece published without you, I’m sure of it.
> 
> I would love to get a drink with you. Are you free on Friday?
> 
> Rey
> 
> ———  
>  Assistant Professor  
>  Department of History  
>  Chandrila State University  
>  “Why did we so consistently look at the West through the sights of a rifle?” —Dan Flores 

* * *

Ben gets impatient. Emailing is for squares, anyway.

> **BEN:** Hi, Rey. I thought planning would be easier this way--I am free Friday. We could meet at Ebon Hawk at 8? Does that work for you?
> 
> **REY:** Hi Ben! It does! I'll see you Friday :)
> 
> **BEN:** Great. See you then.


	2. Chapter 2

Rey shows up at the bar on time this time, not too early, but Ben is already there. She sees him the second she gets through the door. He’s sitting at a little two-seat table just inside— _is any chair ever big enough for this man?_ —facing the entrance. He stands up when she walks in and looks at her so earnestly, his eyebrows raising just the slightest bit.

When she gets to his table she goes straight in for a hug, and it’s not till she has her body pressed against his that she realizes that this probably isn’t a normal thing to do, that she probably should have offered a handshake or a head nod or something else, something more professional, something more casual, but she’s in it now. So she lets herself enjoy it. She feels his belt against her stomach, the give of the muscle on either side of his spine under his soft sweater, his warm hands on her shoulder blades.

She pulls away and feels herself blushing and doesn’t look at his face, just sits down. He starts to say something, clears his throat, and asks, “Can I get you a drink?”

She says, “Oh, it’s fine, I’ll just—” and then a waiter shows up and she orders herself a beer and it’s all taken care of. Ben already has some fancy-looking cocktail in front of him; she doesn’t ask what it is. He asks if she has eaten, if she needs something to eat, and she says no (her dinner was Easy Mac after her evening class, but that’s food).

She tries very hard to hear his voice, pitched low and soft, in the noisy bar. Now she’s glad the table is small, because when she leans across it to hear him she really doesn’t have to lean very far.

Ben congratulates her again on her publication, toasts her. And smiles that little smirk as he clinks their glasses together.

She notices his shoulders in his soft shirt.

She tells him she never thought she would publish, that she’d never thought she’d write anything worth it, worth working on.

And he says, “But you did.” And that’s true, on the face of it, but she did have help.

She notices an ear peeking out from his hair.

She says, “Thank you. Really. I had no idea what I was doing with the whole revise and resubmit thing.”

She sees that little smile again as he looks down briefly, opens his mouth, closes it. He says, “You’re welcome.” He gives her a small nod, like he’s passing someone he doesn’t want to talk to in a hallway, and she worries she’s made him uncomfortable. She doesn’t know how to take praise either.

So she asks him how he came into his work, where he is from, how long he has lived in Chandrila. Some of this she knows from Leia—bits of it had come out here and there in conversation, and other parts Leia had told her outright earlier this summer, when she mentioned that Ben was her son. But Rey wants to hear it from Ben.

He tells her about his previous work for a big-name corporate client—FirstOrder, it turns out, the national telecom monopoly—how he had to relearn how to interact with authors once he started working with them directly, no longer under his FirstOrder supervisor’s influence, how he began to see them as people instead of as nuisances who made errors.

She notices the way his hand swallows the old-fashioned glass, glances up in time to see his eyes track her own hand moving to her throat. He swallows.

She asks if he gets to meet up with his clients often, if he enjoys it.

“Just you,” he says. She thinks, _Just me he meets with? Or_ _just me he enjoys it with?_

He asks her the same questions—“Tell me about _you_ ,” he says. And she does, a little. She’s worked out just how much to tell people who seem genuinely interested, without crossing that boundary into details that might make them pity her. But with Ben, whose face never seems inclined to pity, she lets herself say just a bit more. She hopes briefly that she won’t regret it later, after the beer wears off, when her words come a little less loosely.

It’s not until a waiter comes by to ask if they’d like anything else that Rey realizes both their glasses are empty. She thinks of the way she hugged him when she came in, fears she’s already kept him too long for what was maybe supposed to be a professional meet-up. Ben insists on paying—“Schedule C,” he says. Whatever that means.

Outside, Rey feels the humidity in her lungs as he looks down at her. He asks, “Did you walk here?” and then, “Can I walk you home?”

She feels his hand brush next to hers as they walk, wants to take his arm, doesn’t. They walk mostly in silence those eight or so minutes to her little house. The streets are quiet except for a few passing cars, most of the undergrads home for the summer. Rey tries to think of the last time she felt so comfortable in silence with another person. She tries a few times to think of something to say, in case he doesn’t feel as comfortable, but she’s too distracted by his nearness, the height of him next to her, the memory of his hand on his glass and the lines of muscle along his spine and the lowness of his voice as he spoke to her in the bar. The way he looked down at the table, brow furrowed, as he listened to her.

He walks with her up the wooden steps onto her covered porch. She’d forgotten to turn the light on again before she left, and it feels almost too intimate standing there with him in the quiet dark. If she were brave she would kiss him; if she were brave she would look at his face. Instead she digs through her purse for her keys, searches for something to say.

As she hears the jingle of her keys, she feels one warm fingertip on her cheek. She stills, notices Ben’s shoes directly in front of her, parallel with hers, as he traces that finger over her mouth. She hears his breath as she parts her lips, and she hears her own breath as he dips his finger into her mouth, dragging it down to pull down her lower lip. She closes her eyes as he slips his finger from his mouth to her throat, tracing down to her collarbone.

He drops his hand, and she looks up at him, says, “Stay.” Her voice is quiet, but she hasn’t said anything in so long; she’s certain he can hear the shiver in her breath. He looks hard at her face, and then he is taking her keys from her hand, unlocking her door—she was already holding the right key, so he doesn’t have to ask.

She steps in first, and it’s even darker inside than on the porch. But Ben’s hands are on her shoulders before she can find a light switch, pulling her against him. Against her forehead he murmurs, “Are you sure?”

She bites at the front of his shirt, pulls at it with her teeth, lets out a frustrated little puppy growl. She says, “I’m sure,” and stretches the collar of his shirt down to nip at his collarbone, his throat, listening to his little gasps as she does. She drops her purse as he crowds her against the wall in her entryway and braces his hands next to her head.

He looks down into her face; she slides a hand under the hair on his neck, grasps it tight against his scalp, and says again, “I’m _sure_ , Ben.” She isn’t sure if his quiet whimper is because of the way she says his name or the way she pulled his hair, but she tugs it again, pulling his face down to hers to kiss him.

He kisses her back, softly and so slowly, until Rey is squirming against him, tugging at his hair and his shirt, pulling it up to scratch her nails over his skin, over those muscles in his back. He is controlled, and she feels so feral that when he holds the side of her face in one massive hand, pressing his thumb at the corner of her mouth, she immediately turns her head to bite it. He presses it into her mouth, against her tongue, and the sound she makes is wild and foreign to her.

She grasps his shirt at his chest as she sucks at his thumb, laves her tongue over it. She opens her eyes to see his gaze fixed on her mouth, his own lips parted. Then his hand falls to her collarbone, his thumb and first finger just barely pressing at her throat, and he is kissing her hard enough to bruise. His other hand presses up under her shirt, grazing over her skin from hip to ribcage, holding her still against the wall.

When she needs a breath Rey presses lightly at his chest and he pulls back abruptly, breathing hard. He looks so worried.

She says, “It’s okay! Do you want to . . . just . . . bedroom?”

“What?”

 _Was that too fast?_ “Or do you want to see the rest of the house?”

“Oh,” he says. “No. Just bedroom. Yes. Bedroom would be good.” His face is so open, and Rey smiles at the way he nods to himself as he says it.

“Come along, then,” she says, and grasps his index finger to pull him down the hall behind her.

She does turn the light on in her bedroom. She kisses him gently and lets him undress her, stopping for a moment when both of them are bare waist up to press her chest against his, to breathe for a minute in that. Then she takes off her trousers and sits on the edge of the bed. She pulls him toward her by his hips, undoes his belt, and pushes down his jeans, looking up at his face.

And then he is crawling over her, tugging her up the bed by her armpits to rest her head on a pillow. He crouches next to her, tugs off her underwear, and lifts her leg over his head to kneel between her thighs, forcing her to open them wide to accommodate him and expose all of herself to him.

Rey gasps when he leans up to kiss her, pressing his clothed erection against her bare cunt. She clutches at his neck, his shoulders as he ruts against her. He licks into her mouth; she bites his lower lip; he bites at her throat in return.

He lifts up, braced on one elbow next to her head, and toys at her lips with an index finger before pressing it into her mouth.

“How many can you take?” he asks, eyes on her mouth. He pulls his finger out, only to press back in with two, and she moans around both of them.

She inhales sharply a moment later when she feels those fingers sliding warm and slick over her labia. Ben’s shifted to reach down but keeps his torso over hers, studying her face as he works her open with two thick fingers. She looks up at the ceiling above his head, lets her eyes fall closed as he presses one finger, then two into her, just as he’d done with her mouth.

Rey’s surprised she’s so wet already, that she can already take two of his fingers so easily. But he’s been torturing her with his friendly but distant emails for months, tortured her in her own entryway with kisses and touches as soft as she needed them to be feral. She is ready for this.

He is fucking her slowly with those two fingers, his thumb rubbing steady strokes over her clit.

He says, “Can you take three?” and she opens her eyes to look at his face, already nodding.

She opens her mouth when she feels his fingers leave her empty, but he shifts down to kneel between her thighs, saying, “Not this time. These are for me.” And he brings his fingers to his own mouth to suck her taste from them, to wet the third. His eyes flutter closed as he does it, and it feels almost voyeuristic, watching him tasting her this way, enjoying her almost wholly by himself.

He spreads his other hand over the inside of her thigh, thumb rubbing over that soft spot at the top of it, holding her open to him. And he watches his three fingers press back into her, jaw clenched.

Rey doesn’t know what to do with her hands as he begins to fuck into her again. His focus is so entirely on her cunt that maybe it doesn’t matter anyway. She clutches them over her sternum, and then, when he starts to rub at her clit again, his fingers fucking her so full, stroking at her front wall, she tweaks her nipples. She arches her back at the little shocks that streak from her tits down to her cunt and hears Ben groan, sees his gaze shift up to her chest, her face.

She’s so keyed up now by Ben’s intensity—if he would just work her up a little more she could come. She arches her back, pressing herself down onto Ben’s fingers, feels their pressure deep inside her, feels his thumb circle a little faster over her clit.

But then his hand is gone, and she wants to scream at him. He struggles briefly to pull off his underwear, and as he does she sits up and runs her hands over his chest, his shoulders, his neck, and into his hair. She pulls him down toward her and bites at his collarbone again, sucks at the muscle above his shoulder until he moans and falls forward, catching himself above her.

He slides his lips over hers, letting her feel the fullness of them, and cants his hips to brush the tip of his dick over her labia. He does it again, and Rey feels him catch at her cunt, and she grasps at his ribs, says, “ _Please_ ,” into his mouth.

He kisses her again, lingering at her mouth for a moment as he lets himself dip just the head of his cock into her. And then he presses back up to sit, pulls her hips up so that her thighs rest over his, her hips tilted up to meet his, and drives deep into her all at once. Rey keens softly, feels his hands tight at her hips as he slides his full length out slowly. Ben groans low at the drag of them together and presses back into her just as torturously.

After a few long slow strokes like this, Rey can feel her clit throbbing, begging for some kind of attention. And just then Ben begins to match the slow slide of his dick inside her with steady circling pressure at her clit with a finger. She’s certain she could come from this if he just gives her a minute.

“Ben—” She is cut off by a moan escaping her mouth as he slides into her again. “Ben, please don’t stop, just let me—” and he presses somehow _deeper_ into her, maintaining that torturous pace and increasing his pressure at her clit just enough. Her hands find the headboard above her head to hold her hips closer against him and her shoulders arch down into the bed as her orgasm washes over her.

She opens her eyes again just as he leans forward to grab one of her hands, leaving the other pressed against the headboard. He runs her hand over his face, nips at her fingertips, and sucks one slender finger into his mouth. His eyes close as he growls around it, and his hands grip her hips again as he begins to fuck her with hard, quick strokes.

Rey works to hold herself still, steady with the arm above her head, but his thrusts are shifting her up the bed. His tongue laves at her finger in his hot mouth and he leans forward to keep it there as he fucks her, his hands slipping and tightening at her hips.

But then he slips out of her, and she whines, and he growls again, shaking his head to free her finger from his mouth. He tugs at her hips to pull her back down the bed toward him.

He toys with the slick blunt head of his dick through her labia and asks, “Can you come again?”

And when she nods, he says, “Touch yourself,” looks up at her with a soft smile, and says, “Please.”

And then he _fucks_ her, hard, that soft smile disappearing from his face as his eyes fall closed in concentration, in exertion. His hands hold tight at her hips but they are both beginning to sweat, and her cunt is so _wet_ , both their bodies slick. His skin slaps hard enough to sting with each thrust, and she revels in the thought that she will feel this slight pain as a sweet soreness later.

“ _Please_ , Rey,” he says again, eyes opening briefly to beg her, “come for me. Please.”

She brings her fingers to her clit and thrums wildly there to match his wild fucking. Everything is so slick that she can’t possibly be precise, her fingers slipping with Ben’s barely controlled thrusts, but his intensity is catching. His feral growls reverberate in her ears, and she can think of nothing but those sounds and his dick inside her and the sting of his skin and her _need_.

She’s begun to slide up the bed again, and frantically he grasps one hand at her shoulder to hold her body taut, tight against him. And with that extra spot of pressure _up_ and deep inside her she begins to come again, her fingers struggling to keep up with her orgasm. She’s certain she must be making some feral, choked sound, but then she is _coming_ and her whole brain is in her cunt and all the air in her lungs is just—gone.

Ben lasts one more deep bruising thrust and pulls out to spill hot on her chest, an arm braced next to her head, panting ragged into her neck. He collapses on his side next to her, one thigh thrown over her and leaving light soothing pressure on her swollen labia. He sets his head heavy on her shoulder but leaves their torsos apart in the heat, traces a finger through the cum on her chest, meets her eyes, brings that fingertip to her lips for her to lick clean.

With a hand on her jaw he turns her face to his and kisses her softly. She says, “Be right back,” and gets up to go down the hall to the bathroom. After cleaning herself up a bit, she runs cool water over a washcloth and brings it back to the bedroom, where Ben’s sitting up in the bed.

She kneels in front of him on the bed and runs the cloth softly over his neck, his chest, his thighs, until he rests his head between her breasts, his hands at her waist. He presses gentle kisses to her sternum, still catching his breath.

She says, “I meant it when I asked you to stay.” And he nips lightly at the fullness beneath her nipple, nuzzles against her sternum. He looks up into her face and says, “I will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always if you feel there's something additional I should've tagged, please feel free to say so in a comment or DM me on Twitter; I'm at [@van1lla_v1lla1n](https://twitter.com/van1lla_v1lla1n)!
> 
> Finally, this is your obligatory--although I hope unnecessary--reminder that smut isn't a sex manual; these nerd babes don't talk about using protection, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't! :)


End file.
